


Your Kisses Say Sorry

by Reiya_Wakayama



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fingering, Holding, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Slash, angry/hurt!Merlin, spoilers 4x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 07:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has his own way of apologizing to Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Kisses Say Sorry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Causteek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Causteek/gifts).



> So this came about after attending the Merlin Watch Party for 4x07- The Secret Sharer. My lovely ladies and I were commenting on the ending and my muses decided to raise their heads at the precise moment Arthur apologizes (won’t say about what so as not to spoil for others), and this idea popped into my head. So, I said my idea and the lovelies on chat begged, pleaded and threatened me to write this, so here it is. This goes out to all my special peeps, B) you know who you are. XD  
> [A/N2:] This actually came out differently then what I intended. It went from what was supposed to be a PWP to angsty H/C…^^; . Soooo, alternate ending has been added to have the PWP I so wanted. XD  
> [A/N3:] Still angsty, but some lovely smut. I guess I won’t get much closer to a PWP, so I’m gonna stop trying or else I’ll end up with too many different versions. XD Enjoy.

The castle is silent as he makes his way through it. He hadn’t wanted to leave Gaius like this, but he still has to do his job and his mentor had insisted he was fine. He’s left Gwen to look after him for the night. Continuing down the hallway, he comes up short as Agravaine turns into the corridor, Arthur next to him.

“Ah, Merlin, I was just getting ready to send for you,” Arthur says with a smile, but Merlin is looking at Agravaine.

“I believe I owe you an apology, Merlin. I am sorry for doubting you.” Agravaine smiles his greasy, creepy smile, nodding his head a little towards the servant. Merlin nods, but doesn’t speak to the man. “Sire, I will see you in the morning.” Arthur nods to his uncle as the man departs.

“Come, Merlin.”

They are both silent, in their own thoughts as they trek through the castle corridors until they reach the king’s rooms. Merlin doesn’t say a word, just goes about his routine, picking up after Arthur, straightening, adding fuel to the fire, turning down Arthur’s bed.

Inside though, he’s all tied up in knots. Adrenalin is still pumping sluggishly through his veins, worry still battering around the edges of his thoughts. He’d almost lost Gaius and he doesn’t know if he can take that. He’s already lost so much.

His magic, wound up from both Morgana and Alator, surges and settles, leaving him off balance and tittering, emotion roiling just below the surface and he just wants to go somewhere quiet and cry and scream his anger, sadness, worry, pain, just let it out like draining an infection.

He can’t though. Instead, he’s here, acting as normal as he can under the situation. He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until Arthur’s tanned hand enters his field of vision, resting lightly where his hands fist Arthur coverlet.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks.

Jerking out of his hold stiffly, Merlin walks over to the wardrobe, back ramrod straight as he hangs a shirt, folds a pair of pants. Right now, he wants to hit something and the wardrobe is looking like a good replacement for living flesh.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice is halfway between commanding and questioning and it grates along the knots inside, tugs on them, tightening them further. If he doesn’t get out of there now, he’s going to make a scene.

He turns to leave and is stopped by a hand on his arm, yanking him back, turning him until his face is jammed into a broad, muscular chest, arms wrapped tight around his shaking shoulders. Arthur’s saying something, but all Merlin can get a sense of is the rumble of Arthur’s words inside his ribcage, where his ear is pressed against it.

The last thread snaps and his body goes limp, trembling harder until he’s near about to rattle his teeth out of his skull. His grip on his emotions rips free and he’s swamped, mind screaming, running in circles, yelling, drowning him in white noise and panic, what he couldn’t, wouldn’t allow himself to feel while Gaius was still missing.

Merlin’s not sure how much time has passed before he starts to surface, pushing the panic and worry back down, dulled, bled off, but not completely gone, not completely forgotten. It takes a moment for Merlin to realize that they’ve somehow ended up on the cold stone of the unforgiving floor of Arthur’s chambers.

Arthur’s still holding him tight, rocking slightly, murmuring something into his hair. It takes Merlin a moment to comprehend what he’s saying. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. So sorry….”

Merlin goes to pull back and Arthur’s grip tightens. “Arthur…” Merlin says softly, finally drawing the newly crowned king’s attention. Arthur pulls back slightly, eyes a little cross-eyed as he looks down at Merlin.

They’re so close, breaths mingling and it’s not surprising when Arthur closes the short distance. Warm, chapped lips brush his once, twice and he reads the unspoken words on Arthur’s breath…”I’m sorry.”

Merlin just sighs into it, letting Arthur pull him up; lets the blonde guide him back until soft bed presses invitingly against his back. Arthur undresses him gently, slowly reveling skin, pressing kisses on every patch that appears and each time he presses the same words into his skin…”I’m sorry.”

By the end, tears trickle from Merlin’s eyes, holding onto Arthur with bruising force, grounding himself, as he falls apart, as Arthur puts him back together piece by piece. It’s quiet as they lay there, listening to the wind outside of the window, the crackle of the fire as it devours more wood.

Merlin shifts slightly, pressing a kiss to the side of Arthur’s neck…”Thank you,” it says. Neither speaks as sleep pulls them under and no words are uttered in the morning, but nothing needs to be said.

 **End.**

 

 **Alternate Attempt**

Arthur’s still talking with the council as Merlin turns down the king’s bed. Running a gentle hand down the fine cloth, Merlin smoothes out a wrinkle until it lies flat. Looking up as the door opens, he watches Arthur come in, shutting it and leaning back against the door, looking tired.

Merlin feels a twinge of sympathy for his lover, but quickly pushes the feeling aside. He’s still mad at Arthur and will not let his feelings for the prat get in the way. How could he ever think Gaius would betray him? Pushing away from the bed, he goes to the wardrobe, opening it to pull out Arthur’s sleep pants.

“Help me with this, would you Merlin?” Arthur asks, trying to get a knot undone without much luck.

Merlin unravels it quickly and steps up. Arthur goes to touch his cheek and Merlin takes a step back, turning away to retrieve the sleep pants hanging on the wardrobe door. “Here you are, sire,” he says holding out the garment to Arthur.

“Sire? Since when have you ever called me that?” Arthur asks, looking at him shrewdly. Arthur takes the pants and chucks them onto the bed, still staring at him. “Merlin?”

Merlin turns, ignoring the gaze boring into his back. “Will that be all, sire?”

Arthur grabs his arm, turning him around in one yank. “No, you will tell me now what the matter is? Why are you treating me like this?”

“I’m not treating you like anything, sire.” Merlin snaps back, trying to tug his arm out of Arthur’s grasp. It’s useless and only makes Arthur hold on tighter. He’ll have a bruise there later.

“Yes you are, you’re treating me like everyone else, and I won’t stand for it.” For a second, Arthur’s voice wavers and Merlin’s resolve wavers momentarily. He knows what Arthur is speaking of, but he won’t be swayed from his anger.

“You think you can—,” Merlin starts to say.

Arthur pulls him forward roughly, pressing their lips together angrily. Merlin feels something snap inside and he reaches up, gripping Arthur’s shoulders tightly, digging his fingertips into the muscle there, and drawing a hiss from Arthur.

Arthur retaliates, biting his lower lip, pressing until the skin splits slightly and a bead of blood seeps out. Merlin growls and then they’re ripping at each other’s clothing until both are pressed together naked, twisting and writhing, trying to gain the upper hand.

Arthur pulls away with a snarl, biting down on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin arches his back and retaliates; scratching his blunt nails down Arthur’s back, leaving trails of crimson red that will be there for days to come.

Merlin fights tooth and claw as Arthur presses him down on the bed, holding his wrists together until they grind in his tight grip.

Arthur prepares him roughly; blunt fingers pressing inside him without respite, making Merlin go light headed for a second as his mind spins. Merlin arcs off the bed as Arthur presses in, lips pulled into a snarl; his breathe hissing out in a gust from his nose.

Arthur pounds into him, pain and pleasure mixing into a heady cocktail that leaves Merlin gasping. Arthur groans, biting Merlin’s shoulder hard as he shudders and fills his lover. Pulling out, Arthur lays there panting, riding out the aftershocks.

Merlin whines, still hard and pressed between them. Arthur stirs and presses a soft kiss to his chest, working down his torso. Reaching Merlin’s dick, he takes it into his mouth and Merlin lets out a moan, trying to thrust into the wet heat, but Arthur holds his hips still, pressing his fingers inside again, taking his time until minutes later, Merlin stiffens, grunting as he empties himself down Arthur throat.

Tears are running down his face, the dam he had built broken and washed away. His breath hitches and Arthur’s over him instantly, making shushing sounds, running soft hands over his face, shoulders, through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

“I…I almost lost him,” Merlin finally gets out, pressing his face into Arthur’s neck.

Arthur holds him until he calms, eyes and nose red, sniffing softly. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the bite on Merlin’s shoulder, on his neck, on his lip, pressing kisses across his cheekbones, nose, forehead, wet eyelashes, and his lips again, each one pressing an apology into his skin.

Merlin wraps his arms around Arthur, letting his lover care for him, to wash the worry away. His anger is long gone, faded away in the gentle touch of fingertips, lips, palms that caress him. Outside of the room, the castle rests, waiting for the new day to start.

 **End.**


End file.
